Crazy
by stephaniew
Summary: Spooked by Dean's reputation with women and her own feelings, Sophia slips from their bed and vanishes. Struggling to move on, an urgent text from Sam brings her back. Has Dean been missing her as much as she's missed him?


A/N: Again, I find how much like to make these people suffer...it's terrible! To me, reunions are some of the sweetest moments to write, so here we are. This was also a bit of a writing experiment for me. I found myself getting really wordy and writing ridiculously long sentences. This was an effort to keep it short and choppy without losing any of the emotions or descriptiveness. I think it works pretty well, but please feel free to share your thoughts! I do love reviews!

Much love and extra thank yous to my oh so patient friend and oh so talented beta, **Mali Bears Buddy**. She's the reason this stuff ever sees the light of day and she makes me a better writer and a better person every day. She's also a writer, so please go check out her fantastic set of stories. If you're a Dean/Jo fan, she'll definitely hook you up!

Disclaimer: Wish I owned me some Jensen Ackles, but unfortunately, I don't own anything related to Supernatural. If I did, it'd be time for season 7 already!

Crazy

She runs. She runs and runs and runs. Takes job after job after job. Buries herself in the work. She doesn't sleep, barely eats. She takes as many stupid risks as she can manage. On occasion, she drinks too much whiskey. The only constant in her life is the pain. It never stops. So far she hasn't managed to escape it.

The calls from Dean go to voicemail. She doesn't listen to them, but can't delete them either. She gets the occasional text from Sam. She replies to a few of those, telling him she's fine. It's the biggest lie she's ever told. But he doesn't know "I'm fine" means "I'm drowning in whiskey and misery."

Most of the time, she tries not to think about it, about Dean. She's partly successful. Yet, at night, when she's alone and the bottle's empty, she remembers. She second guesses. She wonders if she did the right thing. She wonders if maybe she misjudged him. She wonders if the gaping, aching hole in her heart will ever heal without him.

Sophia's phone chirps the arrival of a text. She glances up from the book she's not really reading. It's from Sam. With a sigh, she clicks the message open. She gasps. She stands instantly, the phone clattering on the table, a chair falling to the floor behind her.

She dresses quickly. Packs her bags. Stares at the phone. With a hard swallow and a deep breath, she dials the number. "Sam? It's me."

~~~SPN~~~

As luck would have it, she's only about a five hour drive from where the Winchesters have been hunting. She makes it in four. Parks the Mustang in the parking deck of the hospital Sam gave her directions to and takes a deep breath. Resting her forehead on the steering wheel, she gathers all the strength she can muster.

Stepping from the car, she strides purposefully toward the elevators. Her face is calm. Her eyes belie that emotion. Arriving at the fourth floor, she finds Sam. Finds herself enveloped in a bear hug. Finds herself fighting tears.

She pulls away, offering a small smile. "How is he, Sam?"

Sam shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. "He's stable, they said." He rolls his eyes. "Wait and see."

She nods. Struggles with the desire to see Dean versus running again.

Her conflict must appear on her face because Sam makes the decision for her. "You can see him," he says quietly.

Her eyes meet his. She knows she can't hide the confusion, love, longing, pain and so many other emotions from him, so she doesn't try.

Sam sighs. "He hasn't been the same since you left, Sophia."

She shakes her head. Closes her eyes. Bites her lip. Wants to stop him. Longs to hear more.

Again, Sam decides for her. "He's been crazy. Drinking too much, barely sleeping, taking insane risks."

The story sounds all too familiar.

"That's how we ended up here. He went out on his own, after this nest of ghouls." Sam closes his eyes, shudders. "You need to see him, tell him you're here."

A tear drips down her cheek. She nods. Steps uncertainly into Dean's room.

He looks pale. He's bruised and there's a bandage on his forehead. Still, he's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. Her heart clenches as her eyes drink him in. She chokes back the tears threatening to overwhelm her. At the bedside, she takes his cool hand in hers.

"Dean?" she whispers. "Dean, I'm here. It's Sophia."

No response.

She sits in the chair next to the bed. Bends over his hand as if in prayer. She supposes it _is_ a prayer, in a way.

"I'm sorry I left, Dean. I was wrong. I've...missed you. So much. But I'm here now. And I'm not leaving again. Unless you... Unless you decide you don't want me anymore. I hope you can forgive me. We've both suffered so much and for what? Because we were afraid? Life's too short, especially this life. I'm not afraid, I refuse to be afraid. I want to be with you. I need to be with you. So please wake up. Soon. For us..."

Unable to hold back any longer, she rests her head on his hand. Unleashes the tears. She cries for some time. She feels Sam's hand on her shoulder. Leaning against his hip, she wipes her eyes.

"C'mon," he says. "Let's get some coffee."

~~~SPN~~~

They sit in the hospital cafeteria, staring into cups of some kind of caffeinated black sludge.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam says.

She shrugs.

"Why'd you leave?"

She winces. "Because I didn't want to be the one who got left," she replies softly. She twists a napkin in her fingers. "Because I thought it would hurt less if I left before I got in too deep." She laughs. Not a pretty sound, it's bitter and filled with regret. "Might have worked if I hadn't already handed him my heart."

"I know you probably don't want to hear this now, but you were the one."

She freezes.

"And I mean _The__ One_. He'd have been gone before you ever woke up any other time," Sam sighs. "He was frantic when he woke up and you weren't there. He drove around for hours, looking, but obviously you were long gone by then. He called over and over. Left voicemails. I know there were more than I heard." He shakes his head slowly. "I've never seen him like that before. So I texted you, hoping you'd at least tell me you were ok. He lost it when you replied to me and not him. He carried my phone after that."

She stares at him, eyes wide.

"After the first week, the drinking started. Then the hunts. He was reckless, stupid, running headlong into whatever job we could find. I tried to keep up with him, watch his back, but it wasn't easy. Then I noticed some days he was a little less crazy. I looked and it turned out he was texting you from my phone, checking on you."

She gasps. "So after that first time...I was talking to..."

"Him," Sam completes her thought. He notices she's paled again. "He seemed to like it when you insisted you were fine. He'd mumble about it in his sleep. Damnedest thing I ever heard."

She laughs weakly. "Because he knows I only use that word when I'm _not_ fine."

Sam chuckles briefly, then grows serious. "Then two nights ago, this thing with the ghouls." His eyes look faraway as he remembers. "I don't know what set him off, but he located the nest and took off before I could stop him."

"Two nights ago?" she murmurs, a look of horror crossing her face.

Sam reaches for her hand as she sways in the chair. "Sophia? What is it?"

She closes her eyes. "Two nights ago, I got a text from you." She shudders. "At least I thought it was from you. It said 'He misses you, you know.' and I..."

"What did you say?"

Her voice choked, she says, "I didn't, Sammy, I didn't say anything." She drops her head to the table, her breath ragged. "Oh God, this is all my fault."

~~~SPN~~~

2AM. Sophia sits alone by Dean's side. Sam's gone to get some rest. After her revelation in the cafeteria, she's refused to leave his side again until he wakes up. She talks almost non-stop, wanting him to hear her voice. She talks about everything. Nothing.

Her endless patter stops when he stirs. His eyes flutter open slowly. He looks around the room before his eyes come to rest on her.

"Sophia?" he whispers, voice hoarse from disuse. His face is confused.

"Yeah, babe, it's me, I'm here."

She strokes his cheek before swiping a tear from her own.

He struggles to sit up, but she pushes him back, raising the bed instead.

"You're in the hospital," she says quietly. "You were hurt."

He nods, his eyes clearing slightly. "The ghouls."

"Yes."

He stares at her, hungrily taking her in. She looks thinner, tired. Every bit as gorgeous as she does when she haunts his sleep. "I'm dreaming."

She shakes her head, causing more tears to tumble down her cheeks. "No, not dreaming. I'm really here." She places his hand over her heart. It's thundering wildly.

His hand fists in her shirt, pulling her in. "Come here," he growls.

She doesn't fight him. It doesn't even cross her mind to try. She cedes control without another thought.

When she's close enough, he tangles a hand in her hair. His lips feather across hers. He still expects her to disappear. She always does in his dreams. This time, she remains. Solid and warm and real. With a groan, he captures her mouth. Desperate. Angry. Hungry. Tender. Lost.

He thought he'd never feel this again. The warmth of her mouth. The silk of her hair slipping through his fingers. This heat between them.

She opens her mouth to his exploration. She thought she'd never feel this again. His mouth on hers, his tongue slipping against her own. His fingers in her hair. This heat between them.

When he reluctantly drags his lips away to take a breath, the words tumble from her lips. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I've missed you so much. I shouldn't have run out like that, I should have trusted. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know...I didn't...understand. I'm sorry..."

"Shhhh..." He strokes his thumb over her lips.

A nurse bustles through the door. "Ah, you've decided to rejoin us, I see."

Sophia slips away from the bed, into the corner. Dean's eyes never leave her.

The nurse checks the machines, checks his blood pressure, checks his bandages, chattering away. She hands him a paper cup of pills. "Swallow those down, Mr. Bach, and then you can get some more rest."

He looks from the pills to Sophia. She nods, hand over her heart. He's asleep before the nurse finishes her duties.

~~~SPN~~

Dean wakes slowly, woozy from the drugs. He looks for Sophia. Panics when he can't see her. Then feels Sam's hand on his arm.

"Take it easy, she went to get coffee."

Long, slow breath. He focuses on Sam. Looks a little sheepish.

"Just in case you're interested, Dean, this is easily the dumbest thing you've done in a long and storied history of really stupid things."

Dean's expression turns defensive. "I could have taken them."

Sam snorts. "Yeah, obviously. Which is why you're laying here in a hospital bed." Sam casts him a speculative glance. "It did get Sophia here, though, didn't it?"

Dean's face closes. "You really think I'd do something like that? Really, Sam?"

"I don't think you'd do it on purpose, no," Sam replies. "But maybe subconsciously..."

"Don't be ridiculous." Relief fills Dean's expression as the door opens to admit Sophia.

She carries two Starbucks cups. A shy smile lights her face when her gaze lands on Dean. "Venti nonfat double shot vanilla latte, right?" she says, handing one of the cups to Sam.

"Good memory," Sam replies with a grin. He nods at her cup. "And that's a grande nonfat caramel macchiato."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You two and your hipster coffee..."

Sam and Sophia snicker, clicking their cups together. An awkward silence descends.

"Well, I'm gonna head out for a while, bro," Sam says, standing. "I'll be back in a bit."

The smile slips from Sophia's face. While Dean had greeted her passionately last night, it didn't mean he wasn't still angry with her. Her eyes drop to the edge of the bed. Her fingers pick restlessly at the sheets.

The door shushes shut behind Sam. She can feel Dean's eyes on her. She takes a sip of coffee, trying to gather her now scrambled thoughts.

He takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers. "You're staying?" It's part question, part request and part statement.

She nods. "If that's what you want.

"No." He shakes his head, frown creasing his forehead. "What do you want?"

She sighs. "I want whatever you can give me."

"And what is it you think that is?"

She takes another swallow of the coffee, stalling. "Some of the best parts of you. Until...until you can't anymore." And then he'd be gone. The thought hurts. She pushes it away. "And that's ok. I understand. I'd just rather have you in my life for as long as I can."

Long silence. She can feel him staring at her. But she can't bear to meet his gaze. She knows her eyes will betray her. She wants it all. She wants to love him for the rest of her life. She wants to be his and his alone.

But what she wants and what she can have are two different things.

When he finally speaks, his tone is even. Which is dangerous. "You think I'll eventually get tired of you and leave. Right? But you're willing to settle for that. To take what you can get."

She nods once, miserably. This is all wrong.

"No."

The word drops into the tension between them like a boulder into a puddle. The ripples hit her, a shockwave. This is not what she's expecting. She doesn't understand. Her eyes finally raise to his. Unclear, unsure, hurt. "Why not?"

"Because I love you. And I'm _not_ willing to settle."

Nerveless fingers drop the coffee cup. It hits the floor with a dull thud. Her breath catches. Her eyes widen. "What?"

"I love you," he repeats patiently. His eyes are shining. He squeezes her fingers. "I want it all. I want you to be mine. Just mine. And I don't think I can settle for anything less."

This was way beyond what she'd been expecting. Not even in the same universe. How could he echo her thoughts like that? How could he be serious?

She's not responding. He starts to panic a bit. Maybe he read this all wrong. Maybe she was serious about taking what she could get. Maybe she didn't feel the same. Maybe he's just really screwed this up. Again.

"Sophia? Say something. Please."

She shakes her head. She has no idea what to say. For the first time in her life, she's completely speechless.

She stands. His eyes widen. God, she's leaving. Not again. He can't do this again.

She carefully climbs into the bed with him. She even more carefully wraps her arms around him, avoiding his cracked ribs. She buries her face in his neck. A shuddering sigh escapes as she settles against him.

He automatically wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek on the crown of her head. He relaxes for a moment, only to freeze when he feels wet tears on his neck. "Oh, God, babe, please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." He rubs his hands up and down her back helplessly. "I'm sorry. If you don't want... I didn't mean..."

His desperate words are cut off by her just as desperate kiss.

She finds her voice at last. "No, no, shhhhh." Her eyes are still wet with tears as a brilliant smile crosses her face. "I love you, too. It feels like I've loved you forever." Her hand flutters to his face, fingers slipping into his hair.

His eyes search hers. She lets him see everything. He sucks in a deep breath. "Finally," he breathes. She laughs and tucks her head back against his neck. He reclines the bed back.

The nurse comes in an hour later to check on him. They look so peaceful, she can't bring herself to disturb them.

Sam comes in several hours later. He settles in the chair by the window, watches the sunrise, a smile on his lips.

~~~SPN~~~

Dean spends another day in the hospital before convincing the doctors he's well enough to go home.

"I'm gonna head back to the motel and freshen up," Sophia murmurs, smoothing her fingers over the clean t-shirt she's helped him put on. Her smile is a breathtaking combination of sweet and sexy. She pecks his cheek in a chaste kiss.

He growls, capturing her lips for what he finds to be a more appropriate goodbye.

Sam clears his throat.

Sophia blushes and pulls away. "Come find me." She slips her room key into his front jeans pocket with a sly grin.

She disappears out the door. Dean stares after her. His release from the hospital can't happen soon enough. A whole other kind of release is waiting for him. With her.

"So you guys worked things out?" Sam asks.

Dean nods, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Almost," he says. "Still one more thing left."

Sam snickers. "Uh huh. I'm pretty sure I don't need to know about that..."

Dean laughs, something Sam hasn't heard in a long time. "I love her, Sam," he says, turning to look at his brother.

"I know," Sam grins. "Took you long enough to figure it out."

"And I almost lost her in the process." He shakes his head. Enough time's been wasted. And as soon as he can sign the paperwork, he's out of here to make up for it.

~~~SPN~~~

Sophia waits at the motel. She's fidgeted and puttered around the room for the last hour. Making herself crazy. Crazier. Collapsing in the easy chair near the kitchenette, she tries to read a book.

The sound of a key in the lock shoots her to feet. The book falls to the floor unnoticed.

Dean steps in, pushing the door shut behind him. He has eyes only for her.

She's rooted in place. She can't breathe. Her fingers twist the hem of her shirt.

He stops, gaze drinking her in. She looks the same. T-shirt, jeans, bare feet, painted toes. And yet the last weeks have clearly worn on her much as they have on him. He thinks again of the moments they've lost. He should have told her. He pushes the regrets away.

"Sophia." Just her name. His voice is a combination of love, desire, command, request, relief.

Without knowing how she got there, she's in front of him. Breathless. Tentative. Yet so hungry for his touch it's all she can do not to throw herself at him.

His hand on her cheek. Fingers in her hair. Lips so close she can feel his breath on her face. She's lost in his vivid green eyes.

"Dean."

And then his mouth is on hers. She's drowning. His arm snakes around her waist, hauling her tight against him. Her body molds to his. Everything fits just as it should. Her arms lace around his neck, feet on tiptoe. She can't get close enough.

He wants to take his time. Cherish her. Show her how much he loves her. But now with her here in his arms, he can't wait. He's been without her for too long. He didn't get nearly enough before she left. And now he needs her beneath him. Needs to be inside her. Needs to lose himself in her heat.

He yanks her t-shirt up and off, losing her mouth just long enough for the cotton to pass between them. Her bra follows it to the floor. His t-shirt is next. Their skin fuses.

Sophia moans softly. Her hands are all over his smooth skin. She feels the muscles ripple as his hands make their own exploration of her body. She feels the marks left by the ghouls. Her throat closes. She steps back, pulling free with a soft cry.

Dean's hands slide to her hips, keeping her near. "What's wrong?"

Trembling fingers skate over the cuts and scrapes on his stomach. He shivers. She covers her mouth, eyes wide in horror, as they meet his. "My fault..." she whispers. "Sorry...so sorry..." Tears fill her eyes.

Strong arms pull her back into him, tucking her head in his shoulder. "No, no, shhh," he murmurs. "Not your fault. I'm the idiot who went out there alone." He can feel her shake her head.

"I didn't reply to your message," she whispers into his skin. "It was my fault you went out there. I should have said something. I should have told you I missed you too. Missed you so much."

He pulls her away, needing to see her. "No," he says, "if you want to talk about fault, it's my fault you left in the first place because I couldn't tell you how I felt about you." Kisses rain over her face. "So I deserved everything I got."

She opens her mouth to argue with him, but he covers it with his own. A breathless moment later, he says, "Do you really want to argue about this now?" That cocky smirk.

A half-dozen emotions flicker across her face. Reluctant amusement is the last. "No, not really," she concedes.

He lifts her gently onto the bed. "Thank God," he mutters. His hot mouth finds the pulse on her neck, sucks gently. Feels her arch beneath him. Needs more.

Moving down, nipping, sucking, tasting. He swirls his tongue around her taut nipple. Hears her moan of pleasure. Suckles gently, hotly. He's almost forgotten how good she tastes. How responsive she is. How damn good she feels in his arms.

Her fingers dig into his back as he slides down her body. He hits the barrier of her jeans and growls. He strips them off impatiently, eager to get back to her supple skin. Kissing his way back up her body, he feels her tremble.

"I want you," he murmurs in her ear. His hands don't stop stroking her body, winding her up. "I don't think I can wait."

She arches against him, sliding her leg over his hip. "Yes, yes, now," she gasps. "Please..."

She watches him strip down. Even with the fading bruises, he's beautiful. She squirms. Anxious to feel his hard body on hers. Anxious to feel him inside her. Anxious to restore the connection she's felt the loss of so keenly.

"Dean..." She reaches for him. Pulling him down, pulling him in.

Mouths fuse. His hand tightens on her thigh. The fire between them increases with the friction. Breathy pants. Soft moans. Spiraling up, out of control. Teeth nipping his shoulder. Hot breath on her ear.

"I love you," he breathes. And she's gone, her harsh cry piercing the silence. He follows her with a long groan. Collapsing on top of her, his face in her neck.

Ragged breathing is the only sound for a time. Dean rolls to the his back, pulling her with him. She sprawls over him, boneless. Soothing hands glide over her skin. She presses warm kisses to his chest.

"You know, I hope you got your fill of the outside world." His chest rumbles beneath her cheek.

She purrs and stretches. "Oh?"

"Mmm hmm. Cuz you're not leaving this room again for at least two days."

She giggles. "Oh really? I'm surprised I'm not confined to this bed for the duration." She tilts her face up to his. Her silly grin matches his.

A smirk twists his lips. "Ooooh, no," he murmurs, voice low. His fingers trace up and down her spine and she shivers. "There are too many other places I've imagined having you."

The predatory look in his eyes curls her toes. "Other places?"

"I've had a lot of free time," he says, voice smoky. "The wall was a favorite. And bent over the table." He watches as she flushes. But she doesn't break eye contact. "And in the shower...I have a list..."

She licks her lips. His eyes narrow. She slides up, her mouth brushing his. "Well, what the hell are you waiting for, Winchester?" Her tongue glosses over his lip. "We'd better get started..."


End file.
